


Tumbling

by chemicalstar



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24605170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalstar/pseuds/chemicalstar
Summary: AU where an older Erik (in his late 30s) is part of the Xavier bodyguard entourage and is assigned to the school run. Before he knows it, things get out of control and he finds himself being pulled deeper the more he tries to struggle.
Relationships: Emma Frost/Erik Lehnsherr, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Tumbling

**Author's Note:**

> To preface, this is my first body of work, but it has been stuck in my head for awhile as a loose script so I felt I needed to get it out of me. For the purposes of this story arc, Erik's father was a young man in the camps before he moved to America to start a new life. Here, he met Edie, had Erik in his late 40s/early 50s. The actual story starts in the 2000s, where Erik is in his late 30s and Charles is 17. I feel like an awful person for writing this story.  
> Also, not sure how many parts I will write, although I do have a rough idea of scenes and a storyline that I would like to flesh out, somewhat.

Sweat trickles slowly down Erik’s back as he stares out over the water, dampening his shirt. The sun hangs low in the sky, reflecting sharply off the waves, burning into the back of his retinas through his polarised sunglasses. He watches as Charles moves throughout the surf, bending and diving into the waves, riding them, straightening up and turning and diving again. Despite himself, he feels warmed to the pit of his stomach at the sight.

The air is salty and fresh. It feels less oppressively hot down on the sand, even though the mercury is meant to hit ninety today.

There’s no one else around this early in the afternoon. Except for one man and his dog a few hundred yards away. The man is trying to get his dog to fetch a tennis ball, except the dog is having none of it. Erik smirks as the man shakes his head disgustedly and runs after the ball himself, the dog sitting firmly in the sand, watching.

Erik turns back to Charles and starts.

He’s swimming straight towards a rip.

“Charles!” he calls out. “Hey!”

Charles can’t hear him over the sound of the waves crashing into the shore, he knew it before he even started calling out his name. He kicks off his shoes and strips off his pants. As he sprints down to the water, he peels off his socks and unbuttons his shirt, flinging it into the sand.

The water is brisk and cold despite the glaring sun. He strides through it clumsily, heart thudding in his chest, feet sinking into the sand, hindering him from moving any quicker. As the water reaches chest height, he realises Charles has stopped swimming and has turned around, his eyes searching before landing on Erik. He breaks into a wide smile. He throws himself back into the water, swimming towards Erik.

“You little shit!” Erik shouts as he realises he’s been had.

“Got you out here, didn’t I?” Charles asks, panting between words, brushing his damp hair away from his face. He stops right next to Erik, gently floating in the water, limbs swirling under the churning waves.

Erik growls and flicks water into Charles’ eyes, turning as the boy winces. He begins to wade back to shore as two arms wrap themselves around his waist and Charles attempts to pull him under the water. He easily resists that pull – Charles isn’t very strong and his technique is poor. Instead, he turns and pushes down the back of Charles’ head, dunking him under the water.

“Hey!” Charles calls out angrily as he resurfaces, spitting out a mouthful of seawater and rubbing his eyes, “Play fair!”

“You went after me when my back was turned.” Erik shrugs. “I’d say my retaliation was fair.”

Charles stares at Erik for a moment. Then he draws his arm back and flicks water into Erik’s eyes. It’s salty and stings like all hell but Erik doesn’t flinch. He fixes a steely glare on Charles, who lifts his chin defiantly.

Another beat passes. The waves crash incessantly on the shore.

Erik shifts, crouches down and forcefully tackles Charles as another wave begins to break over them. He closes his eyes as their heads go under the water. The wave carries them towards to the shore, Charles wriggles and jerks under his grasp. They push off each other as they straighten up and break for air above the sea.

Another wave breaks and now Charles throws himself forward with more force this time. His arms wrap around Erik’s legs, causing his knees to buckle. Erik finds himself falling again, crashing heavily into the sand, water filling his nose, waves crashing into him and making him feel like he’s been flipped upside down and turned inside out.

He’s on his ass in the sand, water only waist deep. He sits up gasping for air, Charles is on his legs. This is dangerous.

Charles’ eyes are wild as he leans over, bringing their faces closer. It’s like that night, several weeks ago. For a moment, it feels like reality wavers and then something leaps from Charles’ eyes and into Erik. He feels it all then – the lust, both heavy and throbbing, but also light like static. His breathing catches as Charles leans in and closes the gap. His lips are salty and cold but his tongue is warm and he tastes sweet. His kisses are young and inexperienced, overexuberant and excited. He feels so small perched over Erik’s body, so fragile, and it reminds him of how wrong this is. Erik’s heart begins pounding in his ears and he feels like the sea is roaring louder and closing in on him. He’s frustrated, so god damn frustrated. He kisses back viciously, nipping at Charles’ tongue and lips, drawing a gasp from the boy. Then he pushes Charles away.

“I told you before,” he growls, gripping Charles by the back of the neck, “that I can’t do this.”

Charles looks shocked but resigned, his lips look bruised. Erik feels a small twinge of guilt inside, but then the feeling hardens into something else, like annoyance. Discipline, he thinks.

* * *

It started with Emma.

It had been Erik’s week off. When he first started working for Xavier, he’d found adjusting to the routine of two weeks on and one week off quite difficult. It was still better than his previous job, though, better than being on call indefinitely. The hours were better and the pay better still.

He thought he’d found a relatively good routine now. Most days he would go for a run, then go to the gym. He visited his mom and helped her with chores. Sometimes he’d go hang out with Emma, since her weeks off aligned with his. He would cook on three nights of the week and eat leftovers on the other days. His fridge was almost always bare – he’d quickly gotten out of the habit of leaving anything in there to be spoiled on his return after two weeks at the Xavier mansion.

He had just gotten back from the gym and was turning his nose up at the thought of having porridge, again, for the sixth morning in a row. Then his phone buzzed.

_I’m outside._

Emma. She’d been to his a couple of times now. But they had both been drunk every one of those times.

 _I’m on my way down._ He replied back. He took the elevator down to meet her. She was standing in the lobby, her face a mask of cool indifference. Below that, Erik noticed, she bubbled with nervous energy.

“I think I’ve thrown you into the deep end.” Emma greeted him blandly.

“Good morning,” he replied. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am,” she answered impatiently as they entered the elevator to go back up, “aren’t you going to ask me what this is about?”

“Well you did have me concerned given you’ve never come here unannounced before,” Erik said as the doors opened back to his floor, “so how have you thrown me in the deep end?”

Emma waited until Erik had unlocked the door and let her into his apartment before she replied. “We’re going to be swapping duties.”

Erik raised a brow at her. “What? As in, I’m going to be doing the school runs?”

Emma nodded.

“So how is that throwing me in the deep end? You barely have to do anything. You’re a glorified babysitter.”

Emma groaned then, collapsing onto Erik’s couch, stretching her arms out above her head as she leaned backwards. “You don’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“They’re brats, Erik.” As if he didn’t already know that. “And Charles,” she considered it for a moment, “he’s a little minx. He knows how to get inside your head.”

“I thought that was your party trick.” Erik replied and with his power he pulled at the clasp of Emma’s bra. She sat upright and glared at him.

“Not just with his telepathy,” she said, “but he loves getting under your skin too.”

He crossed over to her and covered her body with his, pulling up at her shirt to reveal her smooth, flat belly. “I’m sure,” he answered, lips tickling her skin, “I can handle a couple of brats.”

* * *

Monday, Brian Xavier had a meeting with Kurt Marko to strike a potential business partnership. Erik had escorted him up the Marko tower, black and formidable like a fortress, stark contrast to the gleaming white and glittering mirrored windows of the Xavier Pharmaceuticals building in the central business district. He waited outside the conference room, next to the administration desk, entertaining himself with a dime he’d found in his pocket, floating the coin between his hands alternatively stretching and bending the metal. Until he noticed one of the secretaries giving him a dirty look. Then he’d pocketed the coin again and busied himself with his mobile phone.

“Let’s go, Erik.” Brian’s tone was clipped. He could tell his boss was annoyed, even as the man turned and waved to Marko with a gleaming toothy grin on his face. He got up eagerly, wary that the Marko secretary was still sneaking glances at him.

Erik didn’t say anything as they went into the elevator back to the basement floor parking lot together.

Brian finally spoke again as they pulled out of the lot to the main street. The sunlight was strong and almost blinding after sitting under artificial lighting for so long. Erik flicked down the visors and withdrew his sunglasses from his pockets with his power.

“I am going to need you to look after the kids.”

Erik had been expecting Brian to tell him earlier that morning. Now, it was late afternoon. The lights at the four-way intersection had turned red. He pulled the car steadily to the line before easing back onto the brakes.

“Uh huh. Emma told me already.”

Brian laughed then, rueful, “did she warn you that they’re spoilt?”

The lights flickered back to green and Erik pressed down on the accelerator. He was about to answer, _yes sir_ , when out of the corner of his eye he saw it. By that time, he already knew it was too late. He slammed his foot down on the brakes as there was a screeching of rubber tyres on asphalt and a deep metallic _crunch_ as the oncoming car flew through red lights and into the driver’s side of the car.

He stopped the metal shell of the car from buckling from the impact using his power and tried to prevent their vehicle from skidding along the road, coming to a shuddering stop on the sidewalk. The driver’s window and the windshield had shattered from the initial impact, however and he could feel shards of glass in his hair, could feel blood trickling down his face and his hands. For a moment, he had just sat there, hands still gripping the wheel, car in the middle of the pavement, his whole body shaking with shock and fear.

Then he thought _discipline_ and pushed those feelings back deep inside. _Discipline_ , he reminded himself and he shook the glass out of his hair and brushed it off his suit. Brian was groaning in the seat beside him and he quickly turned and assessed his boss quickly.

“Sir-”

“I’m fine,” Brian snapped quickly, opening his eyes and glaring at Erik icily. “Go after them.”

Erik nodded and unclipped his seatbelt. Blood trickled down his forehead and stung his eyes as he followed the trail of glass and metal scraps across to the other side of the intersection where the other car had come to a stop. Vaguely, he could see the other driver was reaching for something. He ripped the gun from the man’s reach and removed the clip for good measure.

It took all his energy to stop himself from crushing the metal walls of the car into a little ball, to stop himself from killing the other man in rage. Instead, as he got out of his car, he melted the doors of the other car, trapping the driver inside.

But as he walked over to the other car, the driver – his skin a shocking, deep shade of blue – didn’t look terrified at all as he struggled to open the car door. The man turned to him and slowly smiled, then winked.

Then he was gone.

* * *

Discipline, his father had always told him, was the most important thing in life. It followed then, that you should never let anyone see what was important to you.

His father was never one to show emotion, or gestures of love. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t loving. Erik had always felt loved.

He never gave out hugs or kisses, never held hands. Erik’s mother would always give him those comforts.

“Your father had a hard life,” his mother would tell him – she still tells him that, “but he loves you dearly and he is so proud of you.” And Erik would nod and try to understand.

And then, when he sat in front of his father’s armchair and watched the news with him, his father had reached out and, gently, placed his hand on the back of Erik’s head.

And that had been enough.

* * *

Erik rode with Brian in the ambulance to the local hospital. It hadn’t taken too long to get assessed, given the nature of their presentation and the fact that the patient was Brian Xavier. Nevertheless, when Emma came along to collect them, the sun had long since set.

She had raised an eyebrow coolly at Erik’s stitches and he felt like she was judging him.

“Is he alright?”

“Just whiplash,” Erik answered, “he’ll be out soon. They’re just giving him his discharge papers.”

“Did you see the guy who did it?”

“No,” Erik felt a pang of shame, “he did a Harry Houdini. He was blue, though, that much I can tell you. The police are running the plates on his car.”

Emma nodded. “The kids are scared. I didn’t bring them up here, just in case.”

The drive back to the mansion was uneventful. Brian had been nervous, understandably, drumming his hands on the dash, holding himself rather stiffly in the passenger seat. Erik sat behind him, watching him fidget and skimmed his fingers over the spiky stitches in his forehead, a reminder of how close it had been this time.

He could feel Emma poking around in his mind and he caught her eyes in the rear-view mirror. She was telling him she was impressed at how he’d handled the situation. He looked away.

As they drew close to the gates to the estate, Logan stepped out from the shadows of the hedges, the only sign that gave his position away was the orange glow from the tip of his cigarette. He approached the car and Emma wound down the window.

“Sir,” he said gruffly, “good to see the bastards didn’t get a scratch you.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“Your kids are waiting in the sitting room.”

Brian nodded and Logan opened the gates for them to drive through. Brian unclipped his seatbelt before Emma had even put the car into park. Erik felt a sense of trepidation as the front door opened to reveal a young man ( _boy_ ) and girl – despite working for Xavier so long, he hadn’t met the man’s kids before. Charles and Raven, he thought. They didn’t look related.

“Hey sport,” Brian tousled Charles’ hair and gathered up Raven in his other arm. “Hey, why don’t you guys say hello to Erik? He’s going to be driving you around from tomorrow.”

And Charles had turned to him then, a spitting image of his father, although that same stubborn look came off as defiant because of his youth. His eyes met Erik’s and a strange feeling passed through Erik, as though Charles wasn’t just standing in front of him but also all around him, watching him with those same goddamn blue eyes. Fucking telepaths.

“Charles Xavier,” he held out a hand, “pleased to meet you.”

“Erik,” he clasped the boy’s hand, “likewise.”

Looking back, Erik thought, maybe that had been where it all started. He had thought he was on the edge of the shore, toeing the water, but he’d already been pulled deep beneath the waves and he was beyond rescue.


End file.
